The Last Act
by IlyShay7982
Summary: Bones creaked as the masked man laid into the softness of the bed. Breathing heavily, he reached out, touching the bear's soft fur with a leather covered hand. "My love..."


**The Last Act (Phantom of the Opera) Stage One**

**(Authors Note: This story is currently looking for a beta-reader. If you're interested please PM me. =))!!!)**

Dust sat upon wooden shelves and stone floor, finding heaven, for they had not been brushed away for ages. Spiders laid sleeping upon large silky cobwebs, bellies full due to the abundance of moths. They had little company, only themselves, their prey, a few mice and a large thing sitting before a desk to talk to.

The Opera House had been empty for years. The occasional realtors or daredevils promising to spend a night within it's walls were the only ones who dared to step inside. The once grande Opera Garnier, the center of Paris, France, was now said to be haunted by a murderer, to a Phantom. The place was haunted, and no one doubted it any longer.

Two mice fighting over a bread crumb looked up as a screech met their ears. Steel chair legs scratched the stone floor. The large figure stood up, stepping into the moonlight. A half masked face, aged by torment and regret, stared blankly before him. Thinning grey hair he had pulled back in a ponytail, tickled his neck. Soulless black eyes stared at the candle lit room around him. A long black cloak brushed against the door frame as he left the dungeons. Continuing up the staircase, he stopped at the upper level, stopping a moment to rest. His body was not as youthful as it had once been.

"Shayde Larenas" was the name the rusting gold plaque stated as it hang loosely upon an aged wooden door. This was the place he rested when moonlight began to fade to light. Everything was coated in dust, nothing had been touched in years. Only the large circular canopy bed pushed against the north wall was clean. Veiled in a crimson net curtain, the bed was covered in soft black silk sheets, pillows scattered everywhere. A long red dress, a dark stain covering the low cut top, with black ruffles was laid out on the right side of the bed. A large, fluffy white teddy bear, a hole at the heart, stuffing leaking from the fabric wound, rested upon the breast of the dress.

Bones creaked as the masked man laid into the softness of the bed. Breathing heavily, he reached out, touching the bear's soft fur with a leather covered hand. "My love..." He brought the bear closer to his chest, stroking the white fur, planting soft kisses on the head and nose. A noise cut him from his fantasy. A soft knocking was coming from the near-by dresser. Sighing, the aging man stood once again. He had never touched anything within the room. He had never looked into anything, none of the dressers or closets had been opened for over forty years. Grasping the brass handle, it took several hard tugs to finally open the drawer.

Two small beady eyes stared up at him curiously. A white mouse standing upon a small stack of books. Squeaking, the rodent attempted to escape the large leather hand that was coming down on him. But he could not escape, he clawed at the fake animal skin, doing everything he could to escape the small space. In a matter of seconds, nothing constricted him any longer. He was on the ground, the large thing had put him down. He took advantage and scurried off.

The masked man returned to shut the open drawer. Something caught his eye, the large white mouse had been covering large scrawly red letters that read Diary. He didn't want to touch the leather bound book, but his hand wouldn't stop as he picked up the black book. A small name was carved into the broken spine. Shayde H. Larenas. He stared at the name in his hands.

"What secrets hide within these pages?

What had she been hiding?

Secrets lose to the ages

These pages all providing?

I was her fallen angel of music

She gave my heart wings to fly

She wrote and sang my lyric

And gave my soul the right to soar the sky

But did my love make her feel confined?

Only her words can finally ease my mind"

He sighed as the Baritone melody bounced off of the stone walls. Even if his body had aged, his voice had not. The bed creaked as he sat upon it.

**Shade H. Larenas**

"Mom, I don't know how you found this...

BUT PUT IT DOWN RIGHT NOW!!!!"

The pages were faded with age, forty years taking their tole. Gently turning the page, he let out a long sigh,

August 20, 2008...

The day she first came to his opera house.

Letter To My Readers,

01) Yes, the story takes place in Paris France. But neither the Phantom or Shayde were from France. So, the Phantom speaks little French (been there longer) but Shayde speaks no French. So neither their names nor their accents are French.

02) Yes, the story as stated, takes place in 2048 and flashbacks from 2008 and on. So this is not Erik the Phantom. But you will find out later why this man lives in the Opera House, why he wears a mask and why he has taken over the role as Phantom. So, don't say I have no clue where I'm going with this, or that Erik wouldn't have lived that long.

03) I saw the 2004 movie when I was in Chorus class and fell in love with the film. Before that, I didn't know POTO even existed. I will candidly say I haven't read the book or the seen the other movies, but I did see it in Toronto, Canada. So the 2004 version is going to be the one that always sticks out in my mind, even if it isn't the original. And yes, since this isn't the original Erik, this Phantom does indeed look like Gerard Butler in my mind while I'm writing this. The old phantom can look like the original version or something else, it doesn't particularly matter in this fiction really. So the back story is based on ALW's version, and since this is fan fiction, I can do that.


End file.
